Raido Isa
by North4
Summary: Just a little test to see how well Ranma mixes with some norse mythology
1. Default Chapter

Raido Isa

Draft the first

Prologue

Happosai's invisibility trick had been floating around like driftwood in his head all day. Dimensional Warp. What a stupid name. But still, the old pervert actually slipped behind the curtain so to speak and hid in a place that was both here and not here in the same time. It was impressive.

"I wonder how far it goes?" The pig tailed boy asked. Can you warp further from there? Take another step back from reality? If so what would that be like?

"Well I guess there's only one way to find out." Ranma summoned up his spirit and wove a curtain of force around himself. Drawing the curtain taught like a sheet he folded himself out of reality.

Nothing changed. Ranma looked around in disappointment. "Damn it! I know I did what the old troll's scroll said!" He had expected that everything would go slightly rose colored and a haze would spring up. That's what Happosai's notes had indicated. This sucked. He tried again. Nothing.

For over an hour Ranma tried to jump back from reality. Eventually he got bored and sat down. Looking around he noticed that everything seemed unnaturally still. A bird hung frozen in the sky.

"Weird." He muttered. "Ah well I guess I'll give it one more go." As he drew his power around him it suddenly hit. He had been going the wrong way. Time was also a direction. He had been staying in the same spot but moving back from time. As he felt the curtain pull tight around him he had a brief moment to wonder if there was a limit to how fine you could slice a second.

Ranma's mind explodes. Reality swims about him in and out of focus. He sees his mother a waiflike figure with a burning sword her only connection to reality. Friends and enemies seem to flicker in and out of existence. His father, impossibly fat, stumbles over his own gut and falls to the ground bursting into a mass of moths. This is the only vision he enjoys. Suddenly there is a house of cards surrounding him. Kings and queens watch him, clutching royal scepters to silk bedecked breasts. In anguish he manages to force some noise from his throat. The sound that emerges is strange and perplexing to him. He has heard it before. A childhood memory of a monk praying over fire springs to his thoughts. It feels appropriate some how. He licks his lips and tries to summon up the strength to speak once more. _Aum__._The air shivers as waves warp and twist away from his mouth. The sound is changing something he realizes. Suddenly the universe tolls like a bell. The house of cards sways and begins to collapse in on it self. In horror he realizes that the figures drawn on the deck are all pictures of him. They are screaming as they fall. His fingers and hands begin to fade from existence. Folded over in agony he dissolves into a scattering of dust. He is destroyed.

For a moment all is silent.

Ranma's mind explodes. Reality swims about him in and out of focus. He desperately tries to grab hold of something to anchor him. He reaches for his mother's arm but she is to insubstantial to help him. With growing urgency he moves from friend to enemy trying to hold on to something. Anything. His father falls quickly flying away on thousands of delicate wings. Cards appear around him stacking like mah-jong into a paper prison. He lashes out in an attempt to stop what is happening around him. As his fist connects waves of sound dance from his fist and he hears it again. _Aum__._The sound is changing something he realizes. He is inside a giant bell. He presses his hands to his ears trying to force the sound from his head. It does not work. Cards fall around him and he screams as he realizes that he is ringing too. He falls apart like sand. He is destroyed.

For a moment all is silent.

Ranma's mind explodes. Reality swims about him at high speed. His mother zooms past him her sword leaving a glowing trail to mark her wake. He can no longer react quickly enough to keep up with his surroundings. Moths beat against his face as his father hits the ground. Cards. His scream echoes in the turbulent and shifting blackness. A giant monk shout fills the world with ripples. He hears it clearly now. _OM__!_ He falls to dust. He is destroyed.

For a moment there is silent.

Ranma's mind explodes into family friends bells and dust. Over and over again now so fast he can no longer tell when he is created and ripped apart. Over thousands of deaths and millions of births he manages to form a coherent thought. In the fragments of his mind spinning by like frames of film he sees three sisters. One is tall and dark. She is exotic with coffee colored skin and platinum hair. The next is short and cute clutching a high tech toy to her tightly. The last is the most terrible. She kills the small child over and over again taking huge bites out of her body and handing them to her sister. He wonders how anything could survive such terrible abuse. In a flash of inspiration he realizes the last woman's name. She is constantly destroying the world and killing everything in it only to forge a new existence from the ashes of the old. He now hears only the ringing of the bell growing louder and louder. Still he knows that there must be moments of silence. Bracing himself he reaches out with something other than flesh and when the darkness of destruction flickers in front of him he pulls on it with all his might. In the silence he shouts her name.

And from the nothing something answers.

"Oh my! How did you get here?" A pleasant voice asks. "Ginnungagap is dangerous." He finds there is something under his feet. A river of ice. If only he could stand. 

"What..wh." He gasps desperately even though some part of him knows that here there is no air left to breath. "C..ccoold." Mind numbing amounts of nothing flood out around him in all directions. He forces his chattering teeth together and says her name again. "Verdandi."

He looses all hold of himself and becomes one with the ice, drifting away to join the emptiness all around him.

When he awakes it is to something warm and wet brushing his face. Groggily he tries to brush whatever it is away. Something large moves around him. Cracking an eye open he stares up into a pure white sky. After a moment of contemplative confusion the white moves back and he sees a giant cow. His face feels warm with spit. Grass tickles the back of his neck. He comes fully awake.

Ranma rubbed his face trying to wipe the blurriness, and the cow drool, from his eyes. He propped himself up on an elbow and took a look around. It looked like a pasture. Still, after what he vaguely remember happening he wasn't prepared to accept something as shifty as scenery at face value. The cow gave a soft moo and nudged him gently on the shoulder. "Yeah yeah, I'm up." Ranma glared irritably at her. With a heave he bounced up to his feet. Immediately his stomach tried to crawl up into his brain and hide. He sat back down.

"Urgh." He moaned. "I don't feel so good." He shivered. "Damn I'm really cold too." He looked down at his arms and noticed goose bumps. And frost. "It's the middle of summer and I'm lying passed out on some ranch covered in ice!" He shook his head. This proved to be a mistake. When he finally let go of his head and stopped rocking back and forth he took a deep breath. "Alright. First things first. Figure out what happened." He looked around again. "No impact crater so I didn't land here." He brushed a damp lock of hair from his face. The melting ice was soaking his clothes. 

"Auum!" The cow mooed at him.

Ranma glanced at it irritably. "I guess I musta ate something the tomboy made and wandered off here till I passed out." It seemed like the only answer that fit. With a sigh he pushed himself slowly back up to his feet. He swayed for a minute trying to keep his balance. "Guess I'd better get back." He looked around and spotted a fence and a dirt road to his right. "Well thanks for the bath." He patted the cow on the head. She seemed pleased and rolled her eyes at him. Turning he started toward the road waving a hand over his shoulder as he went. "Thanks again!"

Ranm leaned on the fence and stripped his shirt off to wring it out. As he twisted the silk in his hands it hit him. "I'm still a guy! I'm cured!" He started jumping around in great excitement. After a minute his chest started to hurt. Curiously he looked down. A nice pair of breasts swayed in front of him. "Ah crap." The curse must just have taken effect. Strange how it almost seemed to wait for him to remember about it.

Author's notes:

This is just an idea I came up with while wasting away an evening. The tense switches so far are on purpose, sorry if it's confusing. I'm trying to underline the fact that he's Ryoga'd himself into Verdandi's realm of, you got it, the present. I'm also going to try and bring in a lot of other norse mythology 'jus for the hell of it. Anyway let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 1

Raido Isa

Draft the First

Chapter 1

Ranma walked down a dusty track stained a rich red with the sandy rock of the cliff rising to his left. He kicked a stone and watched it go skittering off in a wake of dust. 

"I should of found out who owned that farm and asked for directions." He humphed. He had been walking now for about two hours with no clue to hint at human existence other then the beaten path beneath his feet. Sighing in deep melancholy he tried to think of something to distract him from the boring hike. Maybe a less fatal variation of his father's vacuum attacks? Maybe what was in store for him considering how long he had now been away from Nerima. He shivered despite the warm evening air. Absently Ranma rubbed his shoulder, still feeling the hoarfrost covering his arms. It was almost like the chill of the Fimbulvetr was following him.

"The what?" Ranma stopped. "What the heck is a Fimubu whatever?" He looked around nervously. "Man am I loosing it?" First wandering off into who knows where then dreaming about freezing solid in a river of ice only to be licked free by a giant cow and now he was suddenly using weird words that he didn't even know! "Geeze I knew that tomboy's cooking was toxic but this takes the cake!"

Starting on the path again the heir to the Saotome school of indiscriminate grappling tried to push these disturbing thoughts behind him. After all he had other things to worry about. For example: where the heck was he? Ranma was beginning to notice with growing worry that the plants and land just didn't seem familiar. He had traveled extensively in his life and he knew the lay of Japan. Maybe he was in some back water part of China? If so it would take him a lot longer to get home than just a few hours hike. This also brought up worries about being kidnapped by Cologne and forced with drugs to be some breeding stallion for half a dozen nubile young amazons. He picked up his pace a little. Or maybe Saffron had reached maturity early, killed his family and friends and frozen him with the Gekkaja. Ranma broke into a run. Or maybe… he was sprinting now. The trees blurred by in a line of green. He was running so fast that he almost missed it.

Smoke.

Not the house burning or forest fire smoke. Smoke from a chimney or camp fire. Relief washed over him. It wasn't that he was scared or anything – just, worried. Not slowing he veered off the track and jumped into the woods. Branches whipped his face and arms as he plowed through the dense bracket. Finally he pulled himself up short at the edge of a clearing.

It was the weirdest house he had ever seen. It looked like someone had piled a bunch of stone and then just kept planting trees in it until they figured it was done. Windows and balconies jutted out at improbable angles. The only two things that looked even remotely normal where the large oak door standing solid in the middle of the heap of a house. That, and an arrow straight chimney coughing white smoke into the night clouds overhead. A little unnerved he moved up to the door and gave it a cautious knock. A cricked chirrupt in the distance. He waited a minute more then gave the door a more forceful blow. Immediately a great clanging and bustle sprung up from somewhere inside the cabin. The door swung open. Ranma had a brief impression of eyes that glowed like hot coals under an unkempt white mop glaring at him before a voice shot out at him.

"Go 'way. We don't want none!" The door slammed shut. Ranma gaped. Was knocking again a good idea? He had just raised his fist to pound on the door when it swung open again.

"Well. If it isn't one of you. Shoulda said something earlier. What do you want?" The demon resolved itself into the figure of an old woman. Ranma bowed.

"I am Saotome Ranma. I'm kind of lost and was hoping for directions." His stomach growled loudly as the smell of baking bread wafted out from the open door.

"Eh?" She peered at him. "Saotome you say?" She looked thoughtful. "That's funny I thought I knew all of your kind." Ranma wondered what she meant by 'kind'. "Well you'd better come in." She took a long look at him then cackled to herself in obvious glee. "He's lost! Imagine Aesir getting lost. Next thing you know the sun won't remember to get up in the morning and it'll be time to hack each other to bits. Come on in."

He stepped through the door into a world filled with the largest collection of junk he had ever seen. It felt like the home of a curator with a museum full of antiquity and three hundred square meters to try and store it all. Piles of bones and pottery mixed with ancient swords and armor. The only constant was books. Books were everywhere. Stacks of them reached up to the dusty ceiling and piles of them threatened to overwhelm a small couch resting in front of a low coffee table. Well worn paths twisted off through the collection and the woman headed of the one towards the table.

"I'm Embla." She called over her shoulder. "You can call me whatever you like." He barely heard her mutter grouchily. "I'm sure you will anyway." She suddenly perked up.

"Ask!" She yelled.

Ranma started. "Uhm…ask what?"

"Dammit get out here! You'll never guess who bowed to me at the door!" She cackled gleefully again. "He's off around here somewhere. Easy to get lost you know." As they reached the table the strange old bat cleared some wooden boxes from across the table revealing another couch. She patted it vigorously sending up billows of dust. "You sit here."

Ranma sat dutifully watching as Embla made her way to the other couch. She seemed to fold into it the way mountains slid into the ocean. 

"Back in my day," she started, "There was none of this getting lost business. The world just wasn't big enough." She lapsed back into contemplative silence. Ranma fidgeted quietly. "Oh yes. Those were the days. Lots of lovely smiting back then. Why back when I was just a girl sometimes the fighting would last all day long. Blood and guts everywhere!" She paused suddenly. "Would you like some tea?"

"Ya also didn't have no crapper!" An ancient sounding man's voice shouted from somewhere in the heaps of junk. "Had to go in the snow!"

"Oh don't mind him." Embla poured some steaming brown liquid into a cracked cup. "He's always going on about how today's better than yesterday."

Ranma accepted the tea uncomfortably. This was not his element. He felt he was quickly loosing grasp of the situation. Embla poured herself another cup. 

The old man shouted again. "Heaters!" Embla snorted. "You got heaters nowadays. Bloody cold back then. Always tromping through sleet and snow and ice." The voice trailed off cantankerously.

"I had forgotten about that. He's got a point you know." Embla said thoughtfully. She nodded sagely. "Lots of frozen bodies everywhere you look. We used to stack 'em up into forts and through snowballs at each other. You remember that dear?" She called over her shoulder. "Those were the days."

A hand clasped Ranma on the shoulder. The young man started violently. "You Japanese got the right idea boy. Hot springs! That's the ticket. And that…what do you call it? Kotetsu or something. Warms your legs right up on a cold day." He smiled crookedly. "Ask." He jerked a thumb at himself. "That's my name." He creaked over to sit next to his wife. Embla looked at the weathered old man and sighed, "Why I can't remember the last time I've seen a frozen body. It must have been at least ten years now!" She shook her head. "Not like today. Nowadays it's things like cancer. People rotting from the inside out. Dying of sickness. And worse!" The old woman whispered, "Old age." Even Ask shivered at this.

"Er." Ranma tried vainly.

"Oh yes. You're here wanting something. Your kind always do. Although I must say what a nice young god you are. Most of the others just bust in here yelling 'Thou shalt this' and 'Thou shalt that'. It's nice to meet a nice Aesir with some manners."

"Dammit woman!" Ask grumped. "Can't you let him get a word in?" He leaned forward conspiratorially, "she never lets a body say anything." He patted the confused martial artist on the knee. "Why I remember once she…"

"Um." Ranma held up a hand.

"Oh now look who's going on about not letting 'im talk!" Embal waved a finger at her husband. "And here you were trying to lecture me!"

"WHICH WAY TO TOKYO?" Ranma hollered.

There was a moment of silence. "Tokyo eh?" Ask rubbed his chin. "That'll be in the garden then."

"Well that's a long way off from here!" Embla added.

"Excuse me." Ranma said, "But I really should be getting back. Can you help?" 

"Well." Ask scratched his chin again thoughtfully. "Well now…" He squinted at the black haired boy across from him. "What's in it for us?"

"Now Ask!" His wife lightly slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be rude. I'm sure the young Aesir wouldn't mind returning a favor." Her voice was soothing but the pigtailed fighter caught a glint in her eye to match her husbands.

"Ah. Sure? I guess." Ranma scratched the back of his head.

"Done!" Ask slapped a hand on his knee while Embla clapped her hands together happily. "Well dear I think I remember old Ullr was going to the garden for an archery contest. He owes us a favor or two and I'm sure he won't mind a companion." He nodded at Ranma, "Don't you worry he'll get you back to Japan sure enough. Embla, you just keep our guest entertained while I go and fetch him."

"I'm not in Japan?" Ranma asked.

Ask stood and made his way through the piles of antiques to the door. He grabbed a heavy wool coat from a hook near the entranceway and called over his shoulder. "Won't be a minute now."

Ranma and Embla watched the door close behind him. She leaned in close. "You're lucky it's Ullr. Some of those others can be quit the little bastards. But you know that already didn't you?" She reached for his cup. "Let me pour you another cuppa and we'll have a nice chat while we wait."

Ranma felt his eyes grow heavy as the old woman droned on and on. His last thought before he slipped into dreams was how it was strange that Ask had grabbed such a thick coat. It was summer outside.

Ranma woke with a start. He could hear conversation somewhere behind him.

"Still alive eh Embla?" A gravely voice asked, "You're holding up pretty well for a piece of driftwood." It sounded male. Ranma opened his eyes.

"Still sturdy as ever!" Embla thumped herself in the chest for emphasis and grinned at their visitor. He was tall and narrow with a hawkish nose and deep black hair. Over his shoulder was a long bundle wrapped in red cloth. A bow. To Ranma's trained eye it was difficult to distinguish where the man ended and the bow began. "This old tree'll last a few years yet." Embla bragged. "It's good to see you again Ullr you old stick!"

"So. That him?" Ullr aimed his piercing gaze at the drowsy young martial artist. In the background Ask shook a thin coating of snow from his coat and hung it back up. "I don't know you." Ullr stated. Embla looked surprised. "But then again I've been out of the loop lately. It doesn't matter." He readjusted the bow on his shoulder and Ranma noticed for the first time a quiver filled with white feathered arrows slung lower over his back. "Well?" Ullr tapped a hand against his thigh impatiently. "I'm leaving whether you're coming or not."

Ranma leapt from his seat. "Excuse me." He bowed. The dark archer raised an eyebrow and Embla started cackling in the background.

"Ask!" Look he's doing it again!" She looked ready to burst apart at the seems with mirth.

"All right. After I drag this idiot back to Japan my debt is cleared." Ullr looked to Ask.

"You were heading to the garden anyway." Ask objected. "It's not such a big thing to ask from someone as powerful as yourself." The weathered old man looked back slyly.

Ullr sighed. "Fine. You may call on me once more, but after that there is nothing more between us – understand?" Ask nodded. There were things going on that Ranma didn't understand and a heavy feeling filled the air. The words Ullr and Ask spoke seemed filled with an intangible weight and power.

"Agreed. Well Ranma my boy! It was a pleasure meeting you. Don't forget what you promised us." He led the confused fighter to the door by his elbow.

"Have a safe journey!" Embla called from the interior of the cabin.

"Come back soon." Ask pushed Ranma out and slammed the door. Ranma gaped at the great oaken door in shock. When he looked around Ullr was already on the trail and heading off into the distance.

"Hey! Wait up!" Ranma called, chasing the receding figure of the archer. When he caught up he set himself to match the dark man's long strides. After a minute of silence Ullr suddenly spoke.

"What did you promise them?" He asked. It sounded forced.

"Huh?" Ranma look up at his back as they moved through the forest.

"Ask said you promised him something." Ullr stated evenly.

"Oh. A favor I guess." Ranma nearly ran into the taller man when he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"I haven't heard of you so you're obviously new. It might might just be ignorance and not plain stupidity. Promises have power here. You just traded a ride for an unlimited favor. At best that was a very foolish thing." Ullr spoke over his shoulder without turning around.

"Oh." The archer started off again. Ranma mulled over this information for a while. Instinctively he knew its validity. Some deep part of him resonated with Ullr's words in a way he had never felt before. It also meshed with his Budo – to uphold one's word was a basic tenant of his fighter's code. This brought up another thought. Ullr had been under no obligation to tell him that. In fact the tall archer could easily have used it against him. "Thanks."

"Forget it," Ullr grunted in reply.

Ranma was silent a little more. "Embla was right. You're basically a good person aren't you?"

"You'll shut up if you know what's good for you!" Ullr growled.

Ranma almost laughed aloud. This strange archer was all gruff and bluff but underneath beat a heart that wouldn't let him do the wrong thing. In a way Ranma was reminded of himself. Ullr came to a sudden halt once more, this time at the edge of a steep bluff. Foamy green water stretched out in front of them far into the horizon. Ranma felt a mist on his face, heard crashing waves below, and tasted salt in the air.

"Why are you going to Japan?" Ranma asked.

Ullr dropped his gaze from the ocean below them and felt inside his dark grey coat. "Archery contest."

"You any good?" Ranma questioned. Ullr stopped in shock and looked at him incredulously.

"I'm the best." Finally he removed a long white object from his breast pocket. It was bleach white and covered in black and red markings. Ranma instantly felt the hair on the back of his neck and arms stand straight up. There was an electric charge that took over the air. With a start Ranma realized it was a human leg bone. Ullr glanced at it critically. "Alright. Lets go." He stepped over next to Ranma and tossed the bone at his feet. Holding the first and third fingers of his left hand out in front on him he began to chant in an eerie language that grated against Ranma's ears.  He didn't know what Ullr was doing, but the results were dramatic.  Waves began to crash higher and higher up the cliff face until a wall of spray blurred the line between ocean and sky.  

Ranma tried to take a step back but was prevented by a strong arm blocking his path.  With his other hand Ullr made a vertical slash cutting a pathway into the wall of boiling sea.  Setting off again he walked up to the edge of the cliff and into a tunnel of water.  Ranma cautiously stepped forward toeing the line between earth and liquid cautiously.  Taking a deep breath he stepped in.  Finding it safe, for the moment, he hurried to catch up with the strange man who had such power over the seas.  As he jogged along he shivered uncontrollably for a moment very much aware that a single splash of the seething ocean around him would trigger his curse.  Hours passed this way with Ullr briskly walking into a wall of water only to have the tunnel open before him.  Ranma trailed along not daring to see if the way out behind him still existed or not.  In truth, he figured, it didn't really matter.  He had committed himself to following the archer and now he had no choice but to see where he was led.  Absorbed by these thoughts he was not prepared when sunlight burst in from up ahead.  Ullr had already exited the tunnel and was waiting impatiently for him.  Joining him Ranma turned to look back at the tunnel of water they had been traversing.  To his shock he found that instead of a roiling ocean panorama, instead he was presented with a busy street corner.  Jaw hanging open he suddenly realized that he knew where he was.  Tokyo.

"But…but" He stammered.  Then with a shrug he just gave up.  Too many weird things in his life and this trip in particular to be worried about it.  

Ullr held reached out and from the street at his feet the magic femur leapt up into his waiting hand.  "I assume you can make it from here."

Ranma resisted the urge to bow in gratitude.  "Yeah.  Thank you very much."  He said.  Turning, the strange man walked off and into the crowd.  Ranma watched him go for a minute then started off at a sprint towards home very much looking forward to a nice meal and a long rest.

Authors notes:

Raido is the rune for Journey. I expect I'll be giving little hints about some of the mythological connections at the end of each chapter. It might be more fun that way who knows? Lets see…what else to reveal? Hm.. Fimbulvetr is also known as the Fimblewinter or the Terrible Winter which precedes Ragnarok. A private little ice age signaling the time when the gods and giants and everything else will start slaughtering each other until there is almost none left. Two of the humans survive. On a side note, the norn with the most actual power and weight in the legends? Urd. As you might have guessed Ull or Ullr is the god of archery. He is also the god of snowshoeing and skiers, traits he shares with a goddess named Skadi. The bone is actually part of his legend. Funnily enough he was also the god you called on to help in a duel. It seemed kind of fitting to pair him up with Ranma. Ask (ash) and Embla (ember) are the names of the first two humans. Kind of like Adam and Eve I guess. Odin was walking with some companions one day when he espied a couple of logs of wood (or trees or driftwood depending) he blessed them with spirit and mobility, strength and intelligence and crafted them in his own image. Because they were once trees they share the arbor like trait of very long lives. As for Embla's blood thirstiness…well I'll keep that till a little later. Once again thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 2

Raido Isa

Draft the first

Chapter 2

It was odd. Ranma had lived in Nerima for over a year. He knew the neighborhood fairly well. At least he thought he did. Everything just felt subtly different. Newer looking somehow. Whole houses weren't where he remembered them. How long had he been gone? Still, the Tendo Dojo was exactly where he remembered it. Maybe he could finally find a haven from all this weirdness. Ever since waking up in that field he had been off balance mentally and he just needed a bit of rest to catch up. After that nothing would faze him. Someone was sweeping outside the gate. She was obviously pregnant and would stop every so often to straighten up and press a hand into the small of her back. Ranma had no idea who she was.

"Umh.. Pardon me miss?" He asked gently.

"Yes?" She reminded Ranma a little of the eldest Tendo daughter.

"My name is Saotome Ranma, is Kasumi home?" He decided to be a little cautious. Maybe he was in a different area that had an exact replica of the Dojo owned by another family named Tendo. The neighorbhood had definitely looked different.

"Oh my. I'm sorry, but there's no one here by that name." She paused for a minute and looked thoughtful. 

"Thanks a lot!" He waved. Well, maybe he could check with a police box and see if he was in the right area. He sprinted off.

Behind him the expecting mother leaned the broom up against the stone wall next to the gate. She patted her stomach thoughtfully. "Dear!" She called as she opened the gate and walked in side. "How about the name 'Kasumi'?"

Things were just getting stranger and stranger for the poor Saotome. Admittedly he wasn't an expert on modern technology having grown up on the road, but the make of all the cars he passed was of an older style. And they all looked new. He quickly pushed these disturbing thoughts from his head as he saw a bright red information station at the corner. Approaching quickly he tried to distract the policemen inside from his morning paper enough to ask a quick question. Then he noticed it. The date on the paper. This was 1976?!

"ULLRR!!!" He yelled. Passerby's glanced at him and hurried on whispering amongst themselves. The policeman put his paper down and gave him a heavy glance at the sudden outburst. Ranma was starting to get some of his old fire back. That darn archer must have brought him back 19 years early! He probably thought it was funny or something. People with magic things like that freaky bone always had twisted senses of humor. Well.

"Do you know if there's going to be any archery contest's nearby?" He asked the officer suddenly.

"One over in Shinjuko today I think. You alright there son?" In his experience people didn't just up and start shouting in public very often.

"Thanks." With that Ranma crouched, drew power into his legs from the earth, and vaulted up onto the rooftops.

"A martial artist. Well, that explains it." The policeman opened his paper with a snap and went back to reading his article.

Ranma's spirit lifted as he soared over the crowds below. He had a purpose now. He was sick and tired of being five moves behind and desperately reacting in a vain attempt to catch up. Lost in time or not, this was still his home ground. Here he really was almost the god that crazy old Embla seemed to imagine.  Energized by the strength once again being on Japanese soil the rooftops blurred by faster and faster.  As he reached the apex of a long jump between buildings he suddenly realized that he had no idea where in Shinjuko he was going.  Around ten o'clock he stopped and asked for directions once more.  Finally he found a dojo located next to Shinto temple at the outskirts of the ward.  A large hand painted sign indicated the tournament.  Scanning the crowd, Ranma quickly spotted Ullr kneeling with the contestants.  Was it his imagination or did the rangy man look Japanese now?  Didn't he have blue eyes before?  Ranma shook his head.  

The announcer drew his speach to a close and began the tournament.  "Now will the contestants rise.  Please form a line of six archers one half a step behind the other."  In traditional style the shooting would be in waves of six with each archer acting in perfect step with the others in line.  Ranma sat down to wait on the roof of the temple.  He would catch Ullr after the contest.  Besides it would be nice to see how the archer shot.  After all wasn't it said that through a person's archery their true characters could be determined?  Anyway a second man had taken the stand and was reading a story as the archer's strung their bows and checked their arrows.  Ranma leaned forward to listen:

_There once was a young man who wanted more than anything in the world to become a warrior.  He would train for days swinging a stick weighted down with bars of steel to build up his strength.  Finally, too his great joy, he was accepted as the student at a local dojo.  He doubled his efforts waking up before the sun just to practice the forms he had learned the day before.  Unfortunately though the boy had strong arms and a fierce determination he lacked talent.  After a year of training he realized that he still could not defeat even the newest of students.  _

_The master told him, "Son.  You're dedication is admirable.  But you put too much of yourself into every swing.  You must learn to be delicate and flow like water.  Perhaps you should try another path for awhile."  The young man was crushed.  His dream of being a great and noble warrior was ruined.  Dejectedly he poked the ground with a thin reed at the foot of the dojo's front steps._

_"You look unhappy little twig."  A pleasant voice called out.  The dejected student looked up.  "Hello Mr. Priest."  He said forlornly._

_"Is there something the matter?"  The kindly priest asked._

_"Oh.  It was just my dream to be a great warrior.  But I'm no good at the sword even though I've been training every day for a year."  He threw the stick down in disgust.  _

_The wandering monk nodded sagely.  "Even the greatest swordsman can fall to the sting of an arrow and sometimes dreams refuse to come true.  You should follow the path that is true to your heart."_

_"An archer.__  Well I guess that might work.  It's not as good as being a swordsman, but I guess I can't be choosey."_

_"Perhaps you should seek out the old man who lives by the waterfall in the hills.  It was said that during the war he was the greatest practitioner of kyujutsu that served in his lordship's armies."_

_"The old hermit?"__  The boy asked incredulously._

_"Well I must be off.  Good luck to you."  With that the old priest bowed, shook his eight ringed staff, and ambled on his way._

_The bow took the monk's word to heart and the next day started up the path to the hermit's refuge.  Always a strange sort, the old soldier had returned from the war and immediately gone into seclusion.  There was a lot of talk about him in the village initially, but eventually he had just become a fact of life.  He lived at the base of a waterfall up the westward mountain from the boy's home.  The trees were denser this high and the path was very poorly kept.  Finally he arrived.  He knocked loudly on the frame of the cabin's sliding front door._

_"Hey!"  He called.  "I'm here to learn how to shoot!"  After ten minutes with no answer he knocked again louder this time.  The door immediately opened.  A gnarled old man carrying an empty bucked hobbled out and walked around his visitor hobbling off down the track towards the stream at the base of the waterfall.  It continued this way for three days.  Every time the young man would try and ask the hermit to teach him, the old man would simply walk around him and continue on as if he wasn't there.  Eventually, the boy just lay down in front of the cabin's entrance and waited.  On the evening of the third day the door opened again._

_"What do you want?"  A gravely voice asked._

_Pounding his legs to get some feeling back into them the hopeful student quickly stood.  "I want to learn to be an archer."  He had learned that being rude was likely not to get him anywhere._

_"Go ask the basket weaver in the next town for a job.  Tell her I sent you.  Come back in three months.  Then maybe I'll think about it."  With that the curious old man slammed the door in his face.  _

_"What the hell does basket weaving have to do with archery??"  He shouted.  But still, what else could he do?  Traveling to the next village took another two days.  When he reached the basket weaver's place and sourly told her why he was there she showed him to a room full of long bamboo strips._

_"Bend them into circles like this and lash them with this twine."  She instructed.  "Then weave these shorter strips into the frame to make the basket."  She looked at him sharply.  "If you want to work here I expect twenty a day."_

_The first one took him two hours.  By the end of fourteen hours of work he had finished all twenty.  His arms ached and his hands were bloody from working with the bamboo.  He could now make a basket in half an hour of back breaking labor.  The days stretched into weeks.  It was the hardest work he had ever done.  Each day was agony and he often compared his arms to the wet rice noodles he ate for dinner.  Soon however he began to improve.  On the second month he was making thirty the day.  By the end of the third he could easily make fifty.  He found that the intricate work of threading the bamboo into the frames was calming to him.  He began to feel a sense of peace about him as he worked.  Finally the last day arrived.  He thanked the weaver woman for her kindness and traveled back to the old man's house._

_This time when he knocked the door was opened immediately.  "Well."  The old hermit.  "Show me your hands."  Wordlessly the young man held out his palms for inspection.  The months of hard work had left deep calluses on his fingers.  "Hm."  Was the only response he got._

_"So?  Will you train me?"  He asked._

_"Here."  The old man tossed him a bow.  "String this."  It was over seven feet tall and very stiff.  Only the additional strength gained by bending the slats of bamboo for three months allowed the boy to complete finally string the bow.  "Now draw it back."  Awkwardly the student archer brought the string back behind his ear.  "Alright.  Take these arrows and go shoot a thousand times a day in a field somewhere."  He handed him a quiver.  "Come back in three months."_

_"Dammit old man!__  Why won't you just teach me?"  The hermit just slammed the door closed once again._

_Three months later the young man found he could easily hit his target one thousand times a day.  Sighing he returned back to the lunatic old geezer's hide out.  Politely he knocked once more on the door.  "You back already?"  The old man asked._

_"Yes teacher.  Can you teach me now please?"_

_The master archer handed him a coin with a small hole in the middle and an empty jug.  "Go fill this with water and practice pouring it through the hole.  In three months you should be able to pour it through from ten feet up without missing a drop."  The angry student looked at the coin.  The hole was tiny._

_"What the hell is this crap?"  He shouted.  "You keep making me do all this weird stuff – how do I even know you can shoot at all!"_

_"Follow me."  The old man said.  Taking another bow from inside his house he rested it over his shoulder and started down the path leading toward the village.  About halfway down the mountain they came to a stop some distance from a cherry tree loaded down with fruit.  Stringing his bow in one fluid motion the ancient hermit held it poised over his head.  Taking a deep breath he drew and fired.  "Try to hit a cherry."  He said._

_"Easy."  The young man strung his bow and took careful aim striking on of the fruit dead center.  "See?"_

_"Go get the arrows."  The old man grumped.  The boy easily found his arrow, a single cherry pierced on its shaft, in the grass behind the tree.  It took him a long time to find his masters.  When he finally came upon it he couldn't believe what was before his eyes.  Ten cherries were pierced on its shaft and the bolt was sunk so deep into the trunk of a tree that he could not remove it._

_"Still got a lot to learn idiot."__  His master shouted.  On the way back the boy continued to marvel at the hermit's skill.  Silently taking his bow from his shoulder he drew and shot at the old man's exposed back.  "If he is good enough, he will sense the arrow and shoot it from the air."  Sure enough his master spun around, strung one of his arrows into his great bow and sent it flying back to deflect the deadly missile.  Without pausing the student fired again.  Again his arrow was stopped.  A third time he shot, but as he released he realized with horror that his master had no more arrows left with which to defend himself.  Terror gripped the young boy's heart.  Far from giving up, the old man quickly stripped a branch from a nearby tree, strung it to his bow and with the same exact accuracy shot down his student's arrow.  From that moment on all dreams of swordsmanship died in the young man's breast and he went on to become on of his era's greatest bowman._

Legs firmly planted on the ground, chests relaxed and open, the heads turned slowly toward the targets. The long bamboo bows rose, bent and stretched. Suddenly the unified sound of "Eh", and the arrows struck the target. The archers remained still... Ranma leaned forward…forward…

Author's note:

This chapter is kind mostly a story I vaguely remember reading when I was a kid about the spirit of archery.  Ullr and Ranma will be getting more action time next chapter (or maybe in a later draft of this one).  Anyway tell me what you think.  Okay.  In the beginning of time there were three things.  A land of fog and ice (Niflheim) to the north, a land of elemental fire to the south (Muspelheim), and the void between them (Ginnungagap).   There's a website that says it best:

[In Niflheim was a spring called Hvergelmir from which the Elivagar (eleven rivers - Svol, Gunnthra, Fiorm, Fimbulthul, Slidr, Hrid, Sylg, Ylg, Vid, Leiptr, and Gioll) flowed. The Elivargar froze layer upon layer until it filled in the northerly portion of the gap. Concurrently the southern portion was being filled by sparks and molten material from Muspelheim. 

The mix of fire and ice caused part of the Elivagar to melt forming the figures Ymir the primeval giant and the cow Audhumla. The cow's milk was Ymir's food. While Ymir slept his under arm sweat begat two frost giants, one male one female, while his two legs begat another couple. 

While Ymir was busy procreating Audhumla was busy eating. Her nourishment came from licking the salty ice. Her incessant licking formed the god Buri. He had a son named Bor who was the father of Odin, Vili, and Ve. ]                                   From 


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